


Cabin Fever

by vampireisthenewblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireisthenewblack/pseuds/vampireisthenewblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are trapped in the bunker and Dean's going a little stir-crazy. Sam offers to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabin Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still suffering the ‘everything I write is arse’ malady, consequently I’m leaving a trail of unfinished fic behind me a mile long. But I forced myself to throw caution and logic and canon to the wind, just to get _something_ done. This is the result.
> 
> [venis_envy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy) read this for me, told me it didn’t suck, saved me from embarrassing myself, and I love her ♥

“What the hell, Dean?”

Dean looks up from the dusty old book Sam hauled out of the archives and shoved under his nose hours earlier. “What?” he says. He’s aware that he sounds surly, but he’s past caring.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam snaps his own volume shut, pushes it into the center of the table and leans back. “You’ve been in a crappy mood for days, and you just tore that page, look.”

Dean’s eyes slide back down, and he notes the tear between his fingers. “Pfft.” He bangs the book closed, hits it with the heel of his hand as he kicks at the floor.

When he looks back up, Sam’s staring, lip curled in disdain.

“I’m going crazy locked up in here, okay?” Dean sighs, slumps down in his chair, drops his chin into his chest. “It’s been what? Three weeks now? Hiding from that _thing_ outside. We’ve read all the books, there’s nothing. We drank the last of the booze _days_ ago, we’re eating god knows what out of sixty year old cans, and have you got _any_ fucking idea how long it’s been since I got laid?”

Sam stares for a beat, expression frozen in confusion, and then it breaks. He snorts, and his face splits into a grin, all teeth and dimples. “This is about sex?”

“Lack of sex, Sammy. It makes a man testy.”

Sam laughs out loud. “Well?” He makes a loose fist, jerks it up and down in the universal sign for beating off. “Why don’t you take care of it?”

Dean leans forward, elbows on the table. “I have been,” he spits. “All the damn time.” He closes his eyes, sighs, then pulls himself upright, forcing himself to relax back in the chair. “I’d settle for a goddamn back alley blowjob right about now, you know what I mean?”

Inexplicably, Sam’s eyes flick downward. If the table wasn’t in the way, he’d be staring at Dean’s crotch. Thinking about a sloppy third-rate blowjob in some dirty alleyway is getting Dean hard, and even though Sam can’t possibly see, it’s a little awkward. 

“Hell, Dean,” Sam says, still staring through the table. “I’ll give you a blowjob.”

Dean shakes his head. He can’t have heard right. “I’m sorry, what?”

Sam’s eyes flick up. “I’ll blow you. If it’ll stop you from acting like such a dick.”

Dean leans back, staring at Sam like he’s waiting for the punchline. “Did I fall asleep?” he says. “This is some messed up cabin fever nightmare, right?”

Sam shakes his head. Slowly, carefully, he unfolds his limbs and stands. He leans forward, presses his fingertips down on the table. “I’m serious. Your mood is making me crazy. I’m offering a solution.”

Dean jerks back in his chair, the legs screeching against the floor. “But, you’re—”

Sam dimples at him like he’s amused. “Your brother? Yeah. So what?”

Dean blinks. “I was gonna say ‘a dude’ but that, too.” He shudders. “Sammy, you’ve lost your mind.”

Sam shrugs. “What difference does it make, if it makes you feel better?” He pulls himself up straight, and with his eyes still locked onto Dean’s face, he rounds the end of the table. He moves slow, like he’s afraid Dean will spook. “I bet I could give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.”

Sam drops to his knees. He grabs each edge of the seat under Dean’s ass, yanks it around and kneels between Dean’s spread thighs, then he looks down again. His smile grows wider. “You gonna try and tell me you’re not up for it?”

Dean’s never been more aware of his erection than he is now. He can _feel_ Sam’s eyes on him, they send shivers from his core to thicken his shaft with every second that passes. His dick jerks in his jeans, and Sam notices because his eyes go very wide. “Is it April first?” Dean says. “‘Cause you’re fucking with me, Sammy, I know it.”

Sam shakes his head, his hair falling around his face. “Nope.” He reaches for Dean’s belt. His wrist drags over Dean’s cock, trapped and straining behind heavy denim, and Dean groans.

Sam lets out a rough exhale and works Dean’s jeans open.

“How much?” Dean asks, just a little bit breathless.

Sam looks up, one eyebrow raised.

“How much you wanna bet? ‘Cause I’ve had some fucking perfect blowjobs, Sammy. You gonna work for this?”

Sam grins, then drops his head. “I got it,” he whispers, warm breath washing over the sensitive head of Dean’s cock, making it twitch and leak pre-come. His tongue makes contact, dragging up the underside of the head, scooping up the fluid and pulling it into his mouth. He looks up, turning his head to the side, gazing at Dean from the corner of his eye. “You act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Dean can hardly breathe, like there’s a tight band around his chest, constricting his lungs. There’s a twinge of something there that might be jealousy. “Oh my god,” he rasps. “You’ve done this before.”

Sam’s dimples reappear as he closes his eyes and drags his lips down the side of Dean’s shaft, all the way to the base. “No,” he whispers, his mouth moving over Dean’s skin driving him crazy. “Didn’t you ever want to get down there and show them how it’s done?” He opens his eyes and licks a hot, wet stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock. “I know what feels good, Dean.”

“Holy shit,” Dean says, staring down into Sam’s eyes. He should look away, try to pretend it’s not his brother on his knees in front of him, but he can’t. “Holy fucking shit, Sammy.”

Sam smiles, dimples deepening, then he sucks Dean’s cock into his mouth.

The image of Sam with his lips stretched around the base, his eyelashes fluttering as he moans around it, sears itself into the back of Dean’s brain. He drags his eyes away, looks up at the ceiling as he allows himself to groan out loud, but he can’t keep them there. He’s got to look back, to see what it’s doing to Sam.

Sam looks blissed out, lost. Dean can feel it, too. Sam’s soft little groans, the way he hums around Dean’s cock as he slides up the length, back down again. How long has Sam been thinking about sucking Dean off? It’s never occurred to Dean before this, but now, holy shit, he doesn’t want this to be a one time deal.

Sam works his tongue up the underside of Dean’s head, drags it up and into the slit. “Fuck, Sammy,” Dean gasps, breathless. “Fuck yeah, Sammy, just like that.”

Sam’s eyes snap open, and the look he gives Dean is triumphant. He slides back down to take the entire length into his mouth, and the head hits the back of Sam’s throat. Dean can see it in Sam’s face when he chokes, the tension in his eyes when his throat contracts.

Dean puts his hand on Sam’s head, barely resisting the urge to hold him there, to thrust into that tight, hot channel. He threads his fingers through Sam’s hair, uses the grip he’s got on his brother to tip his head back, to look down into his eyes. “It’s good, Sam,” he moans. “Too fucking good.”

Sam groans, starts to bob his head on Dean’s dick. Saliva dribbles down Dean’s shaft, over his balls.

“Gonna finish me, Sammy?” Dean says. “Gonna finish me off?”

Sam drops his eyelids, blinking once, and he increases his speed. It’s the perfect pace, the right amount of suction. A flick of his tongue each time he pulls up, locking his lips around the head before plunging down again. A tear leaks out of the corner of one eye, runs down his cheek.

“So good,” Dean says, cupping Sam’s jaw, pressing his thumb into Sam’s cheek. He arches up off the chair as Sam’s throat spasms around him. His hips jerk and Sam sputters. “S’good, Sammy, so good.” Dean whimpers as his balls draw up. “Move if you don’t want a mouthf—”

Sam moans around him, and the vibrations send Dean over the edge. He hears himself as if from very far away, moaning as his orgasm breaks over him like a massive wave. He empties himself right down Sam’s throat, his body seizing, releasing, over and over until he’s wrung out.

Dean slumps in the chair, the only thing holding him there Sam’s hands pressing his hips down into the seat. “Fuck, Sammy,” he murmurs. His eyes are closed, but he feels it when Sam pulls away, feels the shift in the air, the hands holding him gone. He opens his eyes, lifts his head.

There’s a question in Sam’s eyes, a drop of Dean’s come at the corner of his mouth. Dean reaches out, slides his thumb across Sam’s lip to catch it. “Good thing I didn’t make that bet.” He pushes his thumb between Sam’s lips, and his cock twitches when Sam sucks it clean.

When Sam rises to his feet, there’s a sly smile on his face. He adjusts himself, and he’s hard, the length of him, the girth obvious as his fingers slide down over the front of his jeans. “Let me know when you get testy again,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Dean says, still focused on Sam’s cock. “What about you?” His eyes slide up, slowly, to Sam’s face. “Sammy?” He licks his lips, heart pounding. “How you doing?”

Sam’s lips twitch, slowly stretch into a smile. He drops his eyes, but fails to hide his grin. “I was going to take care of it myself,” he whispers, and then lifts his eyes to meet Dean’s. He jerks his head toward the door that leads into the corridor. “Come on then, Dean. If you’re up for it?” He lifts an eyebrow, and then disappears out the door.

Dean stares at the empty doorway, listens to Sam’s footsteps, slow, even, measured and controlled, until they stop in the distance. Like he’s waiting.

“Fuck it,” Dean whispers, and gets up out of the chair so fast it hits the floor behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading, please hit the [Kudos ♥] button.
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/vampthenewblack/) | [dreamwidth](http://vampthenewblack.dreamwidth.org)  
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